Happy Pride! (& some updates)
While Irish people voted overwhelmingly in support of marriage equality, we still have a long way to go
Pride means a lot to me. It’s about celebrating the aspects of our identities that are often shamed and honouring a community that is so often disregarded. It’s about saying that, whatever hate, discrimination and violence comes our way, we are proud to be who we are.
This year, I attended Pride Rome in my girlfriend’s hometown and Pride Dublin, which I wrote about a little in this piece for The Irish Times. I got some lovely feedback on this one. Writing is such a solitary profession - I don’t have colleagues or water coolers to chit chat around - so kind words from readers mean so much.
Here’s an excerpt:
June is Pride Month. For the queer community, it’s a time of celebration, visibility and protest. It’s also an opportunity to remember that while Irish people voted overwhelmingly in support of marriage equality in 2015, we still have a long way to go.
Until recently, I lived in an urban community of young families and occasionally encountered the kind of casual homophobia most people think has been eliminated. It’s easy for straight people to miss the small, jarring moments of erasure. I know; I lived three decades believing I was one of them. Before I lived openly as a queer woman, I didn’t know what I didn’t know.
It wasn’t everyone and it didn’t happen everyday, but it happened enough that I thought twice about reaching for my partner’s hand. Coming from the supermarket one day, I heard a young mother chastise her toddler son by referring to him as a “f*gg*t.” On the Luas, young teenagers in self-conscious packs screamed gay slurs. As we walked past dogs chasing balls and children playing, that word – and the toxicity it represents – carried in the wind.
As a child, I heard that word a lot. “Gay” was a slur then too; it didn’t mean homosexual, as much as it meant stupid, hideous or disgusting. Growing up in a devoutly Catholic home, being gay wasn’t an option. I could never have imagined a country where 62 per cent of people would vote for marriage equality.
Read the full piece here.
Some other updates:
Had a wonderful time visiting Rome, Florence and the seaside in early June. Here are some pics.
I was delighted to attend the launch of Púca magazine where I read from my piece ‘The Haunted Hot Water Bottle’. You can buy it here. I wrote this piece in January 2022 and it finally found its audience 16 months later in May 2023. Prior to publication, it was rejected a half-dozen times. As I’ve said before, half of the work of writing is persistence. For the writers among you, I hope you’ll keep going. I also loved this poem, about a paperclip, which had a similar trajectory. Rejected everywhere until someone said yes. All you need is one person to say yes.
On a similar theme, today is the last day of Jami Attenberg’s 1,000 words of summer. I set up a small cheerleading/accountability group and have managed to write a decent chunk of words. I didn’t manage to write everyday, but I wrote when I could and I’m proud of that.
6 months late but I finally finished this 30 day yoga challenge. It took more than 30 days. I skipped some days and doubled up on others but in a period of life when I wasn’t feeling very accomplished or productive, I managed to rebuild my yoga habit. I’m very proud of that.
Five things
Made this harissa chicken with leeks and potatoes again for dinner last night. So good.
Watched the Michael J Fox documentary recently and had to pause it several times to talk about how much I was enjoying it. It’s very cleverly made & I’ve never seen anything like it. 100% worth your time.
“That I can fuck up so badly and not even know it.”” - A powerful, painful piece on Alice Sebold and the man wrongfully convicted for her rape.
A mind-blowing illustration of the deep sea.
This podcast was a wild ride.